#1 on the Never Ending List

Detached
bemused smile
graces pursed lips
as down the silvered blade
blood
drawn to the handle
held upright
crimson
gleaming in the fire light
at my feet
a man?
a dummy?
a woman?
I know not
only that my captor they were.
Flush with freedom
now I am
never looking back
never facing backwards
feral snarl
hands clawed
no longer a captive victim
bray at the moon
hunting down
the vile assassins
of childhood innocences
creating
molding
changing me
into a woman
who brokers no pain
will listen to no pleas
will heed no promises
as I stand
watching
head cocked
smile fading from these lips
eyes harden
out comes the list…..
one more down
a hundred more to go.
©Jan. 31/22
Picture via Pinterest
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